Freedom
by Taidhe
Summary: Wufei POV, flashback-ish explanation of his relationship with Meiran


I do not try to be Meiran. That is one thing that Duo, Quatre, and the others can't understand. But then, they don't know the whole story. The tale they heard was not the one I told. What they heard was that I was a child scholar, living inside the library in dusty robes, earning the contempt of my wife Meiran, and when she died, I felt such guilt that I took up her cause. On some things they are right- I was a book-loving scholar, I earned the contempt of Meiran, I took up her cause on the advent of her death. My motives, the cause of her contempt, my life- they have the wrong details.  
  
* * *  
  
As a child, I learned to read at an astonishing age, 4-5 if I remember. My parents were untraditional, and consequently, were elated. They read to me every night, and eventually I read to them instead. I can remember The Foot Book and Good Night Moon by heart. When I entered school, the expectations were simple- perfection, or as close as I could attain. It wasn't the huge weight Quatre had to carry, just a general certainty that I would do well. You know the type- positive reinforcement, smiles, hugs, and stern looks if I got below an 89.4. Those stern looks never failed to quail me, I dreaded them with all my heart and soul. I was terrified of lectures as well.  
  
I grew up completely knowing my place in life. My parents told me who I was. I was a quiet, shy child who would be successful as I grew older. I had a few friends, but my books were my true companions. The librarians knew me on sight, by name, and had memorized my library card number. I was not a fighter, I abhorred bloodshed, but I would do well in a crisis. My opinions equaled those of my parents. All this I knew without doubt, without question. Being different was a completely alien concept. I *could* have an opinion different than that of my parents- the choice was open to me, and I knew that, in the back of my mind. I just never chose to exercise the option.  
  
Everyone who ever went to school knows or knew a child like me. I'm the one who sat in the back, the nameless one, the one none of the teachers gave a conscious reaction too, just dimly remembered. The one with fascinating, well-thought opinions when asked, but seldom asked. The one who feared his parents and teachers like gods, as though their slightest whim could crush him. The one who was more often ignored than picked on, because said gods would find out over the dinner table and deal with it, parent-to-parent.  
  
But something unexpected happened. Something that shouldn't have, something that was not planned for. Meiran. And she was the kind of person that "happened" in everything, so perhaps it makes sense.  
  
On our first meeting, directly after the betrothal papers had been signed, she expressed a great deal of disdain with me, for weakness, for folly, for naivete. Two subsequent meetings later, her opinion had not changed, but each time I bowed farewell and walked away, I carried away something. new. Ideas, thoughts. Emotions that had never before occurred. I always walked away troubled, and each night wrestled with the idea of being different. My dreams were filled with strange images of me as a teacher, as a scientist, as a fighter. Always, the scholar fell by the wayside. And one day, coming out of the library, filled with a book about fighting and sorcery, I bumped into her again, practically tripped over her.  
  
"Chang. You should watch where you are going, or you may harm someone of consequence." Her voice filled with impatience, and suddenly overflowed. "You know what? I can't stand the way your parents have ruined you. You are BRAINWASHED. It does no service, brings no greatness to the dragon clan or it's god. We worship Nataku, for Justice's sake! Where is the rightness in a man scholar with so much more potential, when a woman warrior takes his place on the field?" She stomped off, and it was clear she had said more than intended. Doubtless she would work off both irritation and penance on the practice field.  
  
I, though, was disturbed. My life had recently been drab. The books of adventure I had taken up reading were so much better than my life, bloodsickness and bugs and dirtiness taken into account. All through class I was silent, all through dinner, all through everything. No one noticed, but I could have told them the difference. My silence was no longer that of one who watches, listens, and absorbs. It was a silence that comes from internal conflict, from one who struggles with a great problem. By nightfall, I had come to my conclusion. As I lay awake, I set up a plan for change.  
  
And at dawn, I stood upon the practice field. Over the next few months, it became apparent to everyone who knew me that this was not a phase, but a lifestyle change. They were. not pleased. My homework fell by the wayside, my glasses and bookbag were slowly replaced by contacts and a katana. My gray scholarly robes were interchanged for white practice garb. And my slumped, craning stance and my trademark furtive-glance-beneath-my- bangs were traded for the balanced, controlled walk and the straight-on stare of a warrior. At some point, my hair was always in a ponytail as well.  
  
One might think that Meiran's respect for me would increase, or at least her disgust would wane. They were wrong. I knew what her reaction would be - I did not do this for her. I had to prove something to myself. I was right about her reaction though.  
  
We met again, a few months later. This time coming out of the practice field, I stopped in time to avoid tripping over her - my dexterity had indeed improved. She looked me up and down, taking in the tough practice clothing, the wooden katana, the ponytail. My deadpan and stoic silence were the only things that had not changed.  
  
"Well. It seems the kitten tries to grow claws." She drawled, not even bothering with a greeting. Then the reprisal I had prepared myself for came. "Coward. Not even enough backbone to defend your own dearly held beliefs. Instead, you timidly change at once, simply to placate a person who dislikes you. What other ideals have done such a complete about face, I wonder? Not your honor, that is for sure. An honorable man would be brave enough to defend his upbringing, not abandon it like a craven weakling at the first sign of opposition. Will you now curse your parents, merely to please I, your lowly betrothed?" Meiran continued to rant for a moment more, as I stood silently in front of her. I swept an ironic bow, one reserved for those of philanthropic nobility as she passed. The action spoke louder than any words. I was sure I heard her snort.  
  
She was right, you know. I *was* being a coward. She had injected me with a fire to try new things, and I was ignoring all of my filial piety in an effort to thoughtlessly please myself. For a moment, I was guilt-ridden. Then, I took her words to heart once again - and ignored her. Who was she to tell me what my values and motives were? Ironic that her own words were used against her message, for I had no intention of returning to my old way.  
  
We did eventually marry, at an age far too young, even for a traditional Chinese society. As both of us were propelled into our shared wedding suite and the door locked, Meiran gave me one glare. I knew *exactly* what to do.  
  
"Come, wife, we must consummate the ceremony. It is our duty, after all." My mouth twisted with this. I bowed to her, but waited for her to make the next move.  
  
"Most certainly not! You *know* they planned this for my fertile time, and I have NO plans for children yet! I am a warior, not a housewife! And you will not take me by force" Meiran was outraged at the suggestion of consummation. I pretended confusion, inwardly burning at the intimation I would even consider rape.  
  
" Of course, I would never take a *lady* against her will. But, it is our duty, is it not? However you may detest me, you do always follow duty. Where would the Dragon Clan be without adherence to Nataku, defender of justice? And there is justice in duty." I stressed the word 'lady' such that the insinuation could not have been lost on a deaf beggar, and then shot her own oft repeated words back at her. She replied heatedly.  
  
"HANG DUTY! I WILL NOT CONSUMMATE THIS ABSURDITY!!!" She screamed at me. I smirked.  
  
"As I, according to you, have practiced the abominable action of, how did you put it? 'hanging duty', for so many years, I should not find this difficult. In the slightest." My voice dripped sarcasm - I had her caught by her own preaching. One last insinuation that she was not desirable (Hence, it wouldn't be hard to forgo sleeping with her) and I once again gave my now trademark bow, the one set aside for philanthropic nobility, then swept out of the room, leaving her sputtering. Game, set, and match, I believe Americans used to say. Or perhaps French- Touchè!  
  
We never consummated the marriage. And she never grew to like me, either. She always despised me, and I knew she always would.  
  
Morever, I never really loved her. Respected? Yes. Admired? Yes. Loved? No chance in hell, to quote my friend Maxwell.  
  
She gave me a priceless gift, you know, one I will treasure forever, one without measure and deserved of everyone. She showed, albeit harshly, how to learn who I really am. I am a hunter, not the hunted. I am a fighter. I am a strategist, I am a leader. I am a scholar of war.  
  
So why did I take up her cause? It wasn't because I loved her, and it wasn't because of the guilt I feel in her death. Nor because I felt truly compelled to carry on Nataku's avatar's dream of justice.  
  
  
  
It is because she gave me freedom. 


End file.
